


Dot the i's

by tjstar



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insecurity, M/M, Neighbors, Scars, Summer, Writing on Skin, maybe warnings but there's nothing graphic though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-14 21:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7191125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjstar/pseuds/tjstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boy from the opposite house is always wearing long-sleeved shirts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dot the i's

The boy from the opposite house is always wearing long-sleeved shirts.

It’s not that Josh is spying on the family that moved into that house about a week ago, no, he just thinks that wearing a black hoodie in the middle of summer in Ohio is just a suicide. Sometimes the boy pulls the hood on, sometimes he doesn’t, and Josh can see his disheveled brown hair.

In the evenings Josh goes out for jogging, and no, he doesn’t try to look into the windows to figure out what’s happening inside the house, but he kind of wants to make sure that this weird guy sleeps wrapped into a million of blankets. Sometimes, Josh sees that boy sitting in a front porch with a book and a little girl, sometimes he’s playing basketball with his brothers (they’re wearing shorts and t-shirts, and Josh wonders why the older boy doesn’t want to take his flannel shirt off).

It’s one of those evenings when Josh stops beside the fence and watches the guy throwing a ball into the basket; he’s alone this time, and he makes like fifteen good shots, but then the ball ricochets off the backboard and misses the basket.

Josh hears the boy groan. Then, he tugs the sleeves of his hoodie down, picks up the ball and keeps training.

Josh isn’t sure if the boy can see him, because he stands behind the tree, and it’s pretty dark on the street, and Josh’s neighbor is busy counting the shots.

He makes forty-five throws before the ball misses the basket again.

Josh can swear the boy whispers _‘Oh God, why’_.

The stalking is creepy.

Josh sighs and runs back to his house, he doesn’t want to get himself into troubles for being late for a traditional family dinner.

 

***

Josh thinks he has a good chance to be popular at college and he’s working on it. He dyes his hair green (well, his hair is still mostly black, but the dark green smears on his bangs are noticeable, and it looks cool, _okay_ ), he has nice abs so he can walk shirtless in front of girls, he has his nose pierced, and he saves money to buy those awesome black gauges.

Josh should be thinking of girls, but he is really worried about the dude with eccentric fashion sense — if he is going to get a heatstroke, it’s his own fault.

Heatstrokes suck.

Josh hears knocking at the door, and his parents are still at work, and his sisters are hanging out with their boyfriends, and his brother is too lazy to lift his ass from the couch.

Josh’s family is awesome.

Somebody knocks again.

Josh rolls his eyes and goes to open the door.

He’s sure he’s hallucinating, because he’s standing face to face with the guy from the opposite house.

“Hi,” Josh says.

“Hi,” Josh’s neighbor responds, pressing a paper bag to his chest. “My Mom sent me here… so I… Well. Cookies,” he finally says, handing Josh the bag and hiding his hands into the kangaroo pocket of his grey hoodie.

“Yeah, thanks,” Josh grins, trying his best to look friendly.

“They’re homemade cookies,” the guy informs him. “So, I think I have to go home, because my brothers can’t stand our sister’s whining,” he adds.

He looks a little sad.

 _‘He’s a good brother, he has to go to his siblings, of course,’_ Josh thinks bitterly.

“Wait,” Josh stops him when he’s about to turn away and go. “What’s your name?”

“Tyler,” he says after a little pause. “Tyler Joseph.”

“Cool name, I’m Josh…” Josh doesn’t have a time to finish, because Tyler nods quickly and heads to his house. “Dun,” Josh adds, but apparently, Tyler isn’t interested in making friends, and Josh can only see his back.

But at least Josh knows that Tyler’s Mom bakes amazing cookies.

 

***

Josh is awkward, his friend Mark always tells him that. So does his brother. And his sisters. And his parents sometimes.

But Josh thinks he’s pretty cool.

But he doesn’t know what to say when Tyler appears at his front door again. This time, Tyler gives him a crumpled piece of paper.

“My sister drew this for you,” Tyler explains. “She’s not good at drawing transformers, sorry.”

Oh, it was a transformer, Josh thought it was a bunch of chaotic doodles.

“Nah, that’s okay, your sister is pretty talented,” Josh chuckles.

Tyler smiles, but he promptly wipes the smile off his face; when he swallows, Josh sees his sharp Adam’s apple moving under his skin. It’s aesthetic. Tyler wipes his palms on his black jeans.

“Don’t you feel hot?” Josh suddenly asks, noticing a tiny bead of sweat on Tyler’s neck.

“What?”

Tyler frowns.

“It’s July, dude,” Josh says. “And you’re wearing black.”

Tyler shrugs.

“I can’t walk around shirtless, I’m not you,” he sighs again.

Josh rubs his bare chest, looking at this weird kid concernedly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay,” Tyler assures. “I’m not gonna bother you anymore, bye!”

He walks away without waiting for Josh’s goodbye.

 

***

Josh is running again. It feels like the sun is going to burn him alive, but he’s speeding up — to jump into a swimming pool in his backyard would be just great right now.

Josh really likes this idea, and he rushes in that direction.

He doesn’t have enough time to slow down when a lanky silhouette blocks his path.

SPLASH.

At first, they’re drowning. Mostly, because of Tyler — he keeps clinging to Josh and makes him take a huge gulp of water, but Josh isn’t mad at him, he just hopes Tyler doesn’t have a phone or something like that in his pockets, because they’re completely soaked. Then, they’re swimming, trying to keep their heads above the water.

Josh pushes Tyler by the side of the pool and grips the metal railings, climbing out of the water and helping Tyler. They’re huffing and coughing, and Josh thinks he was so close to losing his shorts during their Pool Incident; but they’re okay, and Josh thinks that was fun.

Though, Tyler doesn’t look happy. Maybe, because Josh is lying on top of him. Josh rolls off his neighbor, breathing in the hot air and trying to figure out how much he’s screwed up.

“I’m all wet,” Tyler informs him sadly.

“I’m sorry,” Josh says. He’s really sorry, and he can feel the fabric of Tyler’s black hoodie touching his bare arm.

Tyler groans and gets up from the ground, shaking his head like a dog and dripping water everywhere.

“I locked my key inside of my house,” Tyler clutches the hem of his hoodie. That doesn’t help him dry himself. “I didn’t want to meet my aunt, so I was allowed to stay home alone, but I had to go out and feed a stray dog, and the door slammed shut behind my back.”

Oh great, Tyler’s family is probably miles away, and Josh feels bad about this situation. But his tongue doesn’t say the right words.

“But what were you doing beside my pool?!”

“I came here to talk!”

“Fine,” Josh gets on his feet and wraps his arm around Tyler’s shoulders. “Let’s go inside, I’ll give you dry clothes and stuff.”

He can’t just leave this wet guy in his backyard, right?

 

***

“Jordan!” Josh yells as soon as he steps over the threshold.

“I’m not home!” Jordan yells back from his room.

Good. He isn’t going to come and meet Josh’s new friend. Tyler doesn’t step out of the puddle he’s standing in.

“Come on, take it off,” Josh slightly pushes his upper arm. “I’m gonna bring you something.”

“I can’t take this off,” Tyler says, looking at the ground.

Josh decides not to embarrass him and goes to the bathroom; Tyler follows him, repeating he can’t take his clothes off, so Josh just hands him a large fluffy towel and leaves him alone. He changes his wet shorts in his room and rummages in his wardrobe to find some clothes.

He can’t find anything with long sleeves though.

They leave their wet clothes in the dryer, and Tyler doesn’t say a word when Josh leads him into his room; now Tyler is dressed in Josh’s sweatpants and sleeveless t-shirt, and Josh sees his arms for the first time.

Tyler has scars. Thin and long white lines on his wrists, forearms, and even small marks on his left shoulder. Josh can tell it’s been a while since the last cutting, but seeing that hurts his racing heart anyway. Tyler’s skin is still pretty tan, probably, it’s the normal shade of his skin, but the backs of his hands, his face and neck look a bit tanner than the rest of his scrawny body.

They sit on Josh’s bed, and Josh is afraid of the uncontrollable flow of questions that’s about to spill.

Tyler catches Josh’s glance and wraps himself into a plaid blanket.

“Sometimes I don’t do the things right,” Tyler mutters.

Josh isn’t sure if he’s allowed to touch him, but he wants to do that so badly.

“Just… How?” he manages to croak out, hoping it won’t be a trigger.

Tyler shrugs.

“Bad thoughts,” his voice is a whisper, Josh has to lean closer to hear his words. “Some people in church called me a sinner.”

He wants to say that Tyler is too cute to torture himself.

“You’re not a sinner,” Josh says determinedly. “I’m sure.”

“Thinking of kissing a boy is a sin, and talking about that is a sin, too,” Tyler shrugs again, the blanket falls off his shoulder, but Josh catches it up.

For some reason he wants to keep Tyler warm.

“Did your parents tell you that crap?”

Tyler gives him a weak nod.

“They know.”

“Oh man,” Josh tries to take Tyler’s hand, but he shudders when Josh’s fingers touch his wrist. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you!”

 _‘And don’t hurt yourself, please,’_ Josh adds mentally.

It seems like there’s a telepathic bond between him and Tyler.

“I’m clean. Four months, but you know, the scars will never go away, and I’m hiding. Under my clothes. From everyone. Mostly, from myself,” Tyler’s breathing turns into a mess of short and rapid gasps.

Josh hates himself for making his new friend suffer from those traumatic memories, he wishes he could keep his stupid mouth shut.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Josh comforts Tyler, rubbing his back.

“I’m sorry for saying that, I’m terrible at making friends,” Tyler starts apologizing, and the crack in Josh’s heart grows wider.

“You’re awesome at making friends, dude, and you don’t have to hide your sca- marks for forever,” Josh grins, patting Tyler’s shoulder encouragingly.

He has a pretty cool idea.

He reaches for his backpack and unzips one of the pockets — _got it_ — there’s a black Sharpie clamped between Josh’s fingers.

“Give me your hand,” Josh says.

Tyler hesitates a little, but reaches his hand out, and Josh takes it gently, inspecting the /damaged/ skin. White lines, some of them are crossed, some of them were obviously inflamed.

Not good.

No vertical cuts though.

_Suicide is a sin._

“What are you doing?” Tyler wrinkles his nose when Josh draws a thin black line, wrapping it around Tyler’s left wrist. It covers one of the scars, and Josh draws two more circles to hide some of the marks.

“I’m distracting you,” Josh responds, thinking of what he can do with Tyler’s upper arm.

The old cuts here look quite unattractive.

Tyler didn’t want to put that on display.

“I’m not allowed to hold a knife more than two minutes, I don’t have a paper knife, and my Dad watches me when I’m shaving,” Tyler confesses.

Tyler doesn’t deserve that.

Josh just tries to paint something on Tyler’s shoulder. Josh is about to thank God that there are no fresh bleeding cuts — he can’t stand the sight of blood, he’s that kind of person who calls the ambulance when they cut their finger.

“Once I said I saw a tiny harpoon instead of a pen, and my Mom took away all of my pens and pencils.”

Josh doesn’t like Tyler’s metaphors, but he doesn’t want to shut him up.

“But you don’t see that anymore?”

“I don’t say that anymore.”

Josh’s new drawing on Tyler’s skin looks like a cross, but maybe it’s just a double ‘i’.

“You’ve dotted my ‘i’s,” Tyler chuckles, looking at his ‘tattoo’.

“I actually tried to cover, you know,” Josh’s tongue still refuses to say the word ‘scar’.

“I like it. Keep on doing,” Tyler relaxes a little and kicks the blanket off.

Josh draws black bracelets over Tyler’s bicep and near his elbow.

“You can write something,” Tyler offers, poking the patterns with his forefinger. “This makes me feel safe.”

“But what?” Josh asks sheepishly.

“Whatever you want.”

At first, Josh wants to write his name, but then he guesses Tyler’s parents will not be pleased by seeing some random guy’s name on their son’s body. So he writes a simple _‘stay safe’_ like a daily reminder for Tyler.

“Is this okay?” Josh traces his finger over the letters, smearing them a bit.

“It’s just fine,” Tyler smiles; Josh feels like he swallowed a frog, and now it jumps across his stomach.

Josh writes hieroglyphs on Tyler’s right forearm, he doesn’t know what they mean, but he’s sure Tyler has already found the meaning.

Tyler’s self-harm scars don’t look sickeningly-pale anymore.

“I wish these tattoos were real,” Tyler utters, his voice trembles a bit.

“You can get tattoos later,” Josh assures.

Suddenly Josh hears a girls’ laughing from the hallway — his sisters came back home from their double date — and Josh still has an hour before his parents’ returning.

Tyler fidgets on the bed, snatching the blanket and throwing it back over his shoulders.

“I locked the door, they won’t come in,” Josh says.

“Yeah, but…” Tyler frowns. “I have to go home.”

“You said you don’t have a key.”

“But I have the window in my room open.”

Tyler is such a smartass.

“I think you want to get your clothes back,” Josh smirks.

“Yes, it would be nice,” Tyler nods.

Ten minutes later, when Tyler changes his clothes (asking Josh to turn away) and slides out of the front door (promising he isn’t going to break his neck while climbing into the window), Josh thinks it was one of the greatest evenings in his life.

He lies on his bed, hugging to his chest his t-shirt that faintly smells like Tyler’s perfume.

 

***

The next day, Tyler shows up at Josh’s backyard holding a box full of felt-tip pens. Josh greets him with a wide smile, immediately noticing that Tyler is now wearing a t-shirt, and Josh’s drawings are still decorating his skin.

“It’s my turn to paint something,” Tyler says, sitting down onto the side of the pool. “Just don’t try to drown me again.”

“I didn’t- come on, I just didn’t expect to see you here, I said I’m sorry,” Josh laughs.

“I’m joking,” Tyler chuckles and takes a green felt-tip pen out of the box. “Now don’t move, I’m gonna create a piece of art.”

“What will it look like?” Josh raises his eyebrow.  

“The first time I saw you, you were standing behind a tree,” Tyler replies, tickling Josh’s skin with the tip of a pen. “So, I’ll try to draw a tree.”

Josh kind of regrets he had only a black marker when he was writing and drawing on Tyler’s arms.

Tyler focuses on picking the right colors like he’s a professional tattoo-artist; he even sticks the tip of his tongue out, drawing the green leaves and multi-colored branches on Josh’s hand.

“Gonna get me a full-sleeve tattoo?” Josh asks when Tyler starts painting the blue sky with something that resembles tiny birds.

“You’re my badass neighbor, so yes,” Tyler takes the red marker, adding some new shades to the sky.

It’s like Tyler splashes his mind out, all over Josh’s skin, and it’s beautiful.

“Northern lights?” Josh looks down at his shoulder.

“Something like that.”

“I like it,” Josh admits, and Tyler just giggles in response.

He doesn’t look sad today.

“People don’t usually talk to me,” Tyler says, smearing some yellow paint on Josh’s forearm. “Or when they do, they say I’m strange.”

Tyler _is_ strange, but there’s nothing bad about it.

Josh bites his tongue not to blurt that out.

“I don’t smile much because my teeth are ugly, and I don’t talk much because my voice is girlish.”

Tyler’s tiny flaws just don’t exist for Josh.

“And now I’m just whining, _great_ ,” Tyler groans, finishing the surrealistic picture on Josh’s arm; it looks like a full-sleeve tattoo, and it somehow makes Josh look cooler than he is.

Even though this ‘tattoo’ will be washed away after a couple showers.

Tyler rubs his paint-stained palms; some of the scars on his arms are still noticeable, but maybe it’s just Josh’s imagination, and there’s a good chance they won’t stay on Tyler’s skin for forever.

Josh remembers their last night conversation.

Tyler is not the only one who thinks of kissing a guy.

And Tyler doesn’t pull away when Josh leans closer and pecks his lips.

The air gets a bit hotter, and Josh’s hands slide down Tyler’s shoulders, and Tyler _kisses him,_ his lips warm and wet against Josh’s dry ones, and it feels just wonderful. But Josh is a pretty clumsy person, and he accidentally kicks the box with felt-tip pens, almost pushing it into the pool.

Tyler catches it before it hits the water.

And he smiles.

And that invisible frog in Josh’s stomach starts jumping again.

“Thanks?” Tyler asks perplexedly, running his hand through his tousled hair.

“You are my favorite neighbor ever,” Josh exhales. “But your parents?..”

He doesn’t want to break any rules.

“They’re not here, and they are not monsters, Josh,” Tyler rolls his eyes. “Come on, I’m just making friends!”

Tyler’s intonation makes Josh laugh.

“Well, let’s be friends then,” Josh agrees, nuzzling Tyler’s neck.

**Author's Note:**

> so i hope it was cute  
> \---  
> thanks oh_ms_omegalomaniac for helping me fix some mistakes!


End file.
